


Revolution

by Crowley_Kitten



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bondage, Consensual Non-Consent, Fantasy, French Revolution, Ineffable Kinktober 2020, M/M, Rescue, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26803084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Kitten/pseuds/Crowley_Kitten
Summary: are you even a G.O. Fanfic writer if you don't write a fantasy replay of the events at the Bastille?here is mine.Ineffable Kinktober.day 3. prompt. Rescue/capture
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 72
Collections: Ineffable Kinktober 2020, my Ineffable Kinktober





	Revolution

The cellar of the bookshop was not really much like the cells of the Bastille. Nevertheless, Aziraphale had dressed carefully in his antique finery that his beloved had miraculously brought back from Paris for him after its purpose was served. And not a mark on it. The fine silks were glorious to touch. The rich lustrousness of the natural dyes of the time, fastening those pale stockings over his shapely calves, and finally, with shaking hands, those beautiful silk slippers. Oh how he loved them. Utterly impractical of course, but the heels enhanced his muscular legs beautifully, even if he did think so himself. He took out his manacles. Not heavy, harsh, sharp edged metal but buttery soft, baby blue leather, lined with soft sheepskin. Crowley had chosen these restraints for him. He loved the pale blue on his Angel. 

Fastening them to a chain, and then to his wrists with one of those frivolous miracles, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and called out. 

“I’m ready!” 

Then he felt a presence arrive, and turned eagerly to see him. Dressed in black and red, small dark glasses on his aquiline nose, and his hair carefully styled, and tied back in a ribbon. Aziraphale gasped. Crowley was so beautiful. He felt those golden eyes, behind the smoked glass, eating him up. Slowly trailed over the fine tailoring. The expensive fabrics. 

“Oh....” He whispered in a small, nervous voice. Adoring every inch of the alluring creature before him. “Good Lord!” his smirk was even more suggestive than it had been back then. His eyes hungrier, although Crowley doubted it was possible. 

Crowley was in front of him then, trailing the back of his fingers possessively down the Angels cheek, then fiercely grabbing his chin and raising it roughly. 

“Got yourself in a spot of bother, I see?” 

“Well.... yes... I.... I suppose so.” Aziraphale tried to maintain some dignity, although surely Crowley could see the insistent fullness of his breeches. Crowley stepped in closer, pressing the length of his sinewy body against the soft, perfect Angel. Pushing him against the wall. Brick, not stone. 

“And you can’t just free yourself?” 

“No....I’ve had rather a ticking off. Frivolous miracles, you see......but if I get discorporated... well, there’s all of the paperwork, arguing my case for a new corporation. So I really am in quite a fuddle” 

Crowley rolled his hips, the undulation rising from his knees to his shoulders as he pressed close against Aziraphale. 

“It sounds as if you really are,…...Angel........between a ROCK.......and.......” He thrust against him again “A very..... very.......HARD place” Aziraphale whimpered low in his throat, feeling his beloveds Arousal grinding into him. 

“I’m afraid I just don’t know what ro do.... I feel like..... like I’m.....” 

“Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t” Crowley breathed low into the Angels pink ear. 

“But maybe..... maybe.... you could.........” Crowley pulled back, pushing his little glasses back on the crown of his head and feigning astonishment. Those golden warm eyes, pupils wide with desire. “maybe you could.... let me go?” He asked, his voice rising in an uncertain squeak. 

“I don’t know how my bosses would take that” He replied. “HELPING an Angel. I can’t possibly do so without an ulterior motive. After all, think of my report!” His voice lowered. “do you have any suggestions, what my ulterior demonic motive might be?” Aziraphale blushed adorably. 

“What if....... what if your motive was to take your reward for freeing me...... what if..... what if you were to.....to take what you wanted from me. And of course, I am powerless to stop you.... surely sullying the purity of an Angel....” Crowley chuckled darkly 

“Yessssssss, that sounds like a ssssplendid and most agreeable arrangement.” The Demon hissed. 

“And then you’ll set me free?” 

“I am a Demon, Aziraphale. You can only hope I keep my word. Perhaps I will whisk you away and keep you for my own amusement. You'd like that, wouldn’t you” Aziraphale protested, without conviction. Oh if his Demon had suggested that when he had been in chains, he knew he would have consented enthusiastically. 

“Monstrous fiend!” The Principality growled in mock indignation. The Demon spun him, so his chest and face pressed to the wall. His long fingers working frantically at the fine breeches, tugging them down to his ankles and using his knee to part the Angels thick, plush thighs. 

“you are MINE, Angel!” He snarled, pressing a finger down between those round, soft, gorgeous buttocks. When he found that pucker of soft flesh, he eased his first finger in. The Angel yelped and squirmed between him and the wall of the cellar. “oh, you’re so hot and so tight. Am I the first to touch you this way? I would have sworn you were a dirty whore, that all of heaven had you in every way” 

“Only you....” Aziraphale gasped out shallowly. “Never....never anyone else.” Another finger joined the first, coiling and stretching to find his sweet spot. He knew it well, if he just angled his knuckles a little more... 

Aziraphale cried out exquisitely, his head flung back over Crowley's shoulder. The Angels thighs trembled. After working him open for a few more minutes, the demon slicked up his long cock, lined it up at the angel's cleft before ramming it home. Aziraphale’s eyes widened and he cried out, startled, before those long fingers clamped down over his soft, pink mouth. 

the demon's pace was relentless, pounding hard into him, against the wall of the cellar. Aziraphale was gasping shallowly, feeling so thoroughly used and dirty. Crowley's other hand snaked around to caress his hard cock, pumping in time with his thrusts. In time with his harsh breaths in his ear. Aziraphale’s legs were trembling. 

“Heaven won’t want you now, Angel” Crowley grunted harshly “You are tainted. You are MINE” 

“YOUUUUURRRRSSSS” 

“WHO OWNS YOU NOW, ANGEL!” 

“The Demon Crowley....I belong to the demon Crowley......” Crowley was stuttering in his rhythm now driving home hard into the Angel. He spilled over, pulsing into that hot, tight arse, a few more fierce tugs brought the Angel to completion, his spend spattering the brick wall of the cellar. Their harsh breathing sharply punctuated the air, heavy with lust and desire and satisfaction. Aziraphale’s knees were buckling. Crowley supported his weight in their slow drop to the ground. With a snap of his long fingers, they were back in the comfortable, worn bed above the shop. Aziraphale’s beautiful clothes were now on a hanger, as if on display. Aziraphale nuzzled into the demons naked, narrow chest. 

“Oh, love....I wanted you so much then.... I wish I could have let you know.....” 

“Only then?” 

“And before.... I went there looking to find you.....and ever since” 

“I know you weren’t really in trouble for frivolous miracles. You switched clothes!” 

“I just wanted you to come to my rescue. Is that foolish?” 

“No, Angel. That's actually really adorable. My dear, sweet, damsel in distress.”


End file.
